Strange Minds
by The Purple Meanie
Summary: Waking up in an unfamiliar place smack dab in the middle of nowhere for unknown reasons is enough on its own to cause tension for the mercenaries. Add in a door that leads to who-knows-where, an identical building a mile away, plus rumors of a monster running around, and you've got yourself an opportunity for the worst sides of one's self to surface. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1: Morning**

Within his first moments of consciousness, the Scout extended his arm. His hand bumped against a pane of glass merely inches away from his nose. His eyes adjusted to the light, and past the glass he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Somewhere outside, a high-pitched alarm pounded his ears. Scout tried putting his arms out to his sides, but only managed to slam them against black walls which were crammed against his body. Jolted by adrenaline, the Scout beat against the glass in an increasingly violent succession, unable to sit up at all. Realizing his hands would not be enough, he made an effort to squirm his legs around - to no avail; they were nearly useless.

Heart racing, sweat forming, body quivering, the Scout watched with no small joy as the glass roof of his coffin began to lift off to its side. In his own mind, he had _earned_ his freedom from his claustrophobic prison by beating it until it could no longer take any punishment. Scout banged the side of his head while sitting upright, belting out a victorious war cry that reverberated in the space around him. His elation would fade in a matter of seconds, however, as he began to absorb his surroundings. Dread came down on him again like a sledgehammer when he looked face to face with the Engineer beside him.

And then the Heavy. And then the Sniper. And then the rest of the team - all wearing nothing but boxer shorts, and all sitting inside strange gray pods positioned in a perfect line against a wall that Scout had never seen before in his life, and judging by the others' expressions, that _they_ had never seen before. One pod was empty. The mercenaries turned at the sound of a zipper: the Pyro leaned against a doorframe, having put on his whole getup. Even from under his mask, it was clear that Pyro was quite ecstatic to see his teammates waking up, giving them all an innocent wave.

No one knew what to say besides mumblings of _'What?'_ and _'What the Hell?.'_ Like deer caught in headlights, they were frozen, passively drinking in their surroundings. Unlike the high-tech pods all covered in a modern sheen, everything around them looked used, plain, and draped in earthly tones. As far as anyone could tell, they'd all been dumped into a military installation more like Area 51 than the base in Teufort. Several of each of the class' uniforms hung in racks in an almost hidden corner of the room. Sunlight peeked through dirt-covered windows.

Once feeling had returned to his legs, Scout came to his senses and wasted no time in crawling out of his pod, groping his hands at the frigid concrete floor,

"Ok, do any of you know what the hell's goin' on?" he groaned, "Cause I sure don't." His fellow mercenaries began exiting their pods and fought against their own weighed down legs.

"I jus' went to sleep in my bed like normal..." Engie replied, "And then I woke up here with y'all!" He shook his head. Scout had rarely seen him before without his goggles over his eyes, and noticed the unease in them. The Soldier sprang out of his pod and stood up at attention. He said to them gravely,

"Men, I'm afraid to have to break it to you, but there can only be one explanation for this: the Commies have taken over the whole operation and brought us to the Motherland." His eyes glistened with fervent defiance. "They say a man ain't whipped 'till he quits, and we'll never give them the satisfaction-"

" _I_ _mpossible!_ " Heavy butt into his speech, "Our training was well-guarded secret, the Soviet Union could not know!" The Soldier turned to the Russian as if he were going to accuse him of treachery, yet somehow held his tongue. Meanwhile, the Spy (who was wearing his mask despite being only in boxer shorts otherwise) set his gaze to a timer set into his and everyone else's tube that had counted down to zero.

"To whoever put us here, it was of upmost importance that we were not awake for the journey from the base."

"Oh, really?" Scout sniped. The Spy shot him a glare, and then gestured back at the timer,

"We were put to sleep for 24 hours or less," he noted, causing Scout to shoot back,

"Thank you, Spy. For a second there I thought we might'a woken up in the future or somethin'!" The Spy grit his teeth, but said nothing more. The mercs all managed to stand up and began trudging towards the racks with stiff backs and jellied legs, save for one hungover Demoman who was still finding his bearings on the floor. The Soldier turned on one leg and went back to pick up the Scot, warning him not to fall behind on the battlefield.

Scout stood by and observed his teammates while they put on their uniforms, and in particular studied their faces which, for the most part, read nothing more than simple annoyance at the situation. It confounded him. The only thing keeping Scout from breaking out into a panic was his desire to not make a fool of himself in front of the others. _How were they not freaking out right now?_ If any of them were, they were damn good at hiding it. Before today, Scout would've struggled to say that being around a team mostly comprised of freaks, idiots, and maniacs would be any comforting, but right now?

A thought popped into his head: Had this sort of thing happened to all of them before except himself? Somehow, it seemed like a frightening possibility. He tuned back in to the others' conversations; the Sniper had been saying,

"I'll give whoever done this exactly 5 seconds to squeal before I put my foot up their asses." The Medic put on his spectacles, and added enthusiastically,

" _Nein!_ Ve should use my medical tools instead..." Scout was about to ask the doctor where he'd get his equipment in a place like this before he caught sight of a whole workshop that had been concealed by the racks. Firearms and melee weapons of all kinds hung from nails on a white wall while toolboxes and medical kits sat on the floor along with an assortment of cardboard boxes with unknown contents. The weapons weren't even all generic - many of them were tailor-made for specific classes (Heavy's beloved minigun, Sasha, was bound to be somewhere in there).

After all the men were suited up, there was only one way to go: forward. With Heavy boldly taking the lead, Team Fortress departed from the room where they awakened. Everything past this wing would be unfamiliar territory. As they went into the corridor the mercs were bottlenecked into walking in a straight line, each step so deliberate they were tiptoed. Scout found himself at the back of the line behind Pyro, who was spurned by Demoman after he tried to clutch his back.

They came to a stop at a fork leading to three possible entrances. Without a word they kept going straight. As they passed by the openings to the left and right, Scout took a few seconds to look into each room. To the left was a sterile-looking kitchen holding a fridge and stacks upon stacks of canned goods. To the right, a decent-sized bathroom hurt Scout's eyes to peek at with its bright lights. Heavy and the rest of the guys' bulk prevented Scout from seeing where they were going.

When they were at last able to spread out in this new wing, the largest one by a wide margin, Scout couldn't believe what he was seeing - it was like they ended up going inside a completely different building; compared to the other rooms, this place was downright cozy, being decked out with a sofa, a few couches, a couple of chairs, a little fireplace, a full bookshelf, and a carpeted floor... Sure, it looked like someone lazily threw a bunch of furniture into a warehouse, but Scout could appreciate the gesture.

Still dumbfounded, the team were again at a loss for words. Finally, Scout asked quietly,

"Is this our new base?" The others made uncertain noises,

"I was under the impression that we were to stay at the base in Teufort for a long while," Spy stated. "We trained there, we lived there..." he trailed off, and his eyes darted back and forth between his teammates. The Spy scratched his chin; he seemed to be coming to some sort of conclusion. He strode past each of the mercs and pointed a finger at them, "Gentlemen, I need you all to use your brain matter and remember what happened before you went to sleep."

Scout immediately jumped in,

"Oh, _oh!_ I was comin' back from the can and I saw Ms. Pauling walking around outside!" the mention of the elusive Administrator's assistant intrigued the mercenaries.

"Did she say anything to you? Did you notice anything strange about her?"

"Uh, no." Scout answered honestly, "But I remember I was like: 'Wow, she looks good today.'" 7 and a half pairs of eyes bore into him. He would've bolted out of there if it weren't for his locked feet. Team Fortress collectively decided to forget what they just heard, and Spy went back to pressing the others to recall past events, but soon it was clear no man saw anything out of the ordinary during their last day at the base.

"Well, _that_ was illuminating," the Frenchman sighed. The men turned their heads to a door with a window at the far end of the room. Engie took a few cautious steps towards the door,

"Might as well see what's outside," he said. With the rest of the team crowded right behind him, the Engineer gripped the handle and pulled the door open. The sun's light was blinding, the only sounds were gentle wind and footsteps against dry dirt. Now the mysterious settlement could be viewed from the outside, though the appearance of the building itself wielded no answers. Several of the mercs took a few steps around the empty space to make sure what they were looking at was real. Scout knew one thing for sure: he was seeing a whole lot of nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 1: Midday**

A total wasteland - that's where they were. Dust in every direction as far as the eye could see, with nothing more than scraggly trees dotting the landscape. The Soldier, the one man not phased by the sight of the barren land, laughed,

"They enemy's retreated! They knew we were coming after them, so they ran off like cowards instead of facing us like _real men!_ "

"Look around us!" called out Scout, exasperated. "There's nothin' for _miles!_ "

"They're just hiding. Probably right behind one of those trees over there." Soldier ran over to the nearest tree, checked it intensely, and ran back to the group. "All clear," he confirmed with pride. There was no getting through to him. After a few moments of standing around and doing nothing, Engie just shrugged,

"Well, boys, I'm mighty hungry m'self. I'm gonna take a look around and see what we got in the kitchen." The rest of the team thought it was the best idea anyone ever had and followed Engie back inside.

Whoever dumped the mercs in the building were courteous enough to put up a wooden table with chairs in the middle of the kitchen, and soon most of the team found themselves gathered around the table gorging on canned beans like it was any regular morning. Only Demoman chose not to sit with his comrades; while they were chatting away, he was frantically checking the fridge. After realizing the fridge lacked what he was looking for, he stumbled over to the stacks of canned foods.

Whispers of 'Come on...' and 'Should be here somewhere...' escaped the Scot's lips. Sniper leaned over,

"Whatcha lookin' for, mate?"

"What do ye think?" Demo muttered.

"Ze situation has revealed itself to be a very unorthodox method of detoxification," mused the Medic. "Perhaps zis is part of ze purpose?" The one-eyed man was eventually forced to face the truth, and once he had shoved over every individual can in the whole room, he slumped against the sink in defeat.

"I understand your predicament: anyone who wants a smoke is out of luck." The Spy's half-hearted appeal predictably had no effect on the Demoman, who rubbed his hands over his forehead in an effort to relieve his pain. Finishing his can of beans, Scout got up from his seat and left the kitchen behind, making his way over to the bathroom. Sure that he was alone, Scout took a good look at himself in the mirror.

The lights made it difficult to determine how pale he truly was right then, and there were no switches to turn them off. The young man forced his reflection to wear a less troubled face. He told himself not to worry about anything, that soon everything was gonna be cleared up and everybody would look back and go "Hey, wasn't that freakin' terrifying? Well that's all in the past." Several minutes were spent until Scout was reasonably satisfied with his appearance.

Scout returned to the kitchen where the mercs were holding a serious conversation; they agreed that a small party should be sent out to trek part of the terrain for any sign of life. Scout jumped at the opportunity to leave this dump and volunteered first; Sniper and Heavy followed suit. Spy offered to go as well but Engie gently turned him down,

"I think three's enough." For reasons unknown to Scout, the Spy had a peeved expression on his face, though he made no more fuss about it. The plan was about to be set in motion when Pyro caught the others' attentions by hopping up and down, mumbling urgently for them to come over to where he was and look at what he found. He pointed to something that looked much like a garage door at the far right of the room, previously only noticed unconsciously as the source of the slight chill in the air. "This leads underground," the Engineer said more to himself.

When asked to explain, he said, "If you go outside and look at the building, you can see what looks like an add-on where the roof slopes down." Engie put up his hand up diagonally to illustrate his point. Any interest in seeing what lay beyond the garage door was snuffed out by the sight of a keypad.

"Jus' blow the thing up, hack the pad, do something! We don't need the code to get in!" Demoman pointed out. He had submitted to his hangover and was sprawled out on the couch.

"The rest of us'll think about it after they leave," Engie decided, gesturing to the volunteers. Those who would stay behind accompanied Scout, Sniper, and Heavy all the way to the wall of weapons. Scout grabbed his scattergun, Sniper put his rifle over his shoulder, and Heavy chose a shotgun that looked comically tiny in his hands. All the other teammates saw the three outside under the midday sun and wished them good luck.

"Your bravery will not be forgotten, men!" Soldier gave the volunteers his most patriotic salute behind their backs as they made the first steps into the unknown. As they went along further, Scout periodically looked back to see the building shrink in the distance. Their only real goal was to trek a mile in a couple different directions and come right back. It wouldn't be any problem for the three, though, as the temperature was quite mild for it being midday in a dry area.

Soon the young man's mind wandered off. He listed off various locations of where they could be in his head, giving up due to the sparse information the wasteland gave him. Scout wouldn't have doubted it if it turned out the team weren't even in America anymore. With nothing else to think about, Scout's imagination steadily took over. He felt a tingling in his spine - a feeling as if he and the other two were being observed by invisible figures in every direction. Scout took a few gulps out of his thermos to ease his parched mouth.

Just as he was at the peak of his dread, Sniper and Heavy thankfully broke the silence, speaking among themselves while Scout was ahead,

"I think we can stop pretendin' like this is the least bit normal," said Sniper. "I mean, the upper management always struck me as a little off in the head, but this is beyond them."

"I cannot say what is happening," Heavy admitted, and added spitefully, "It was big mistake for captors to give weapons." He shaped his fingers like a gun and shot at an imaginary foe.

"Yeah, if we find anything out 'ere, it better be a phone. I'll call the cops, and then my parents."

"Oh?"

"My Dad wrote last week. Said Mum's not doing so well..." Sniper trailed off and looked ahead at Scout. "You can go off, mate, you don't have to wait for us," he suggested to the young man. Scout laughed,

"That's what scouts are for, amiright?" He raced ahead, leaving Sniper and Heavy in the dust. The wind against his body was soothing, the act of running a welcome distraction. Scout could see an object coming up different from everything else - what first appeared to be a giant rock was actually another building when the vague outline of the structure could be discerned. Finally, a sign of civilization! Scout picked up the pace, only for a distressing noise to come out of nowhere and startle him into halting. It sounded like some kind of dog.

Scout turned his head in the noise's general direction and jumped at the sight of a mangy coyote. The slim animal with a ratted coat padded along the ground aimlessly, growling every few seconds. It gazed at Scout emptily, and Scout backed away at the sight of it's frothing mouth. He'd probably outrun it easily, but Scout didn't want to risk having the thing chase after him.

Remembering he had a weapon, Scout put up his scattergun. He hesitated, as if just holding up the gun would be enough to drive off the infected coyote. A second later, the animal went down at the same time a shot rang out, and stayed down. Sniper put down his rifle, pleased with his marksmanship. He and Heavy approached Scout,

"Were you trying to get bit?"

 _"No!"_ Scout protested. "I didn't wanna miss." With the danger out of the way he changed the subject, "Look, there's a building up there. Race ya to to it." He dashed away once more, but his companions kept a slow pace. Not that he really wanted to race, anyway. Details of the new building came to the surface, and Scout became momentarily puzzled. This compound was identical to the one they just came from - same size, same earthly colors, same add-on with the sloped roof... It wasn't long before Scout was sheltered by the building's shadow.

He looked back to see Sniper and Heavy coming, both staring up at the compound with the the same confounded expression he just had. If it weren't for the fact that there were less footprints outside, they might have seriously thought they'd circled back. The three continued and stopped in front of the door; the first thing that stuck out was a rust-colored splatter against the window, and the hairs on the back of Scout's neck stood up.

"What, are you babies afraid of little blood?" Heavy taunted his companions. "We came all this way not to turn back!" He shoved Scout and Sniper aside and went right in front of the door. Scout and Sniper exchanged a nervous glance and brought up the rear. If it were any other class that shoved him, Scout wouldn't have let it slip, but confronting an armed Heavy Weapons Guy would be a death wish, even with his sluggishness.

The Russian turned the handle and opened the door; a body that was leaning up against it slumped right onto the dirt. Heavy let out a cry of surprise and jumped away. Scout gaped at the corpse clad in blue, face caked in blood, and screamed: Under all that blood there was no mistaking the face of the Soldier.


	3. Chapter 3

The three men were stunned into silence - especially Heavy, who stood with words half-formed on his tongue. It wasn't so much the blood that rattled them, but the reality that they were currently staring at a perfect copy of one of their own. Heavy respectfully sat the blue Soldier upright against the doorframe - a useless gesture, perhaps, but he did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Concurrent with the door opening, the all too familiar stench of carnage hammered the three; Scout recoiled, " _Jesus Christ,_ do we hafta go in there?!"

"Stay out here if you want, kid, but I'm findin' out what the bloody hell's goin' on!" Sniper used his arm to cover the lower half of his face and stepped inside, with Heavy right on his tail. Alone, Scout looked back down at the deceased Soldier. If there was a second Soldier here, then that must mean... Scout braced himself and leaped into the compound.

Every one of his suspicions were immediately confirmed: The mysterious door and each piece of furniture was here as well, only mirrored, but Scout wasn't focused on the interior decorating. He counted 7 more blood-stained bodies. Slumped over a couch lay his double dressed in blue, back stained with red. Scout leaned against the wall, unsure if he would puke within the next few seconds. His more battle-hardened companions managed to compose themselves, yet one could see in their eyes how truly they were shaken.

Sniper took off his sunglasses like he was making sure they weren't playing tricks on his eyes. He gave his clone, whose brains were spilling onto the floor, his inaudible respects and turned away. At the sight of his twin strewn out on the carpet, blue in clothes and face, Heavy strained to find the words in English to express his state of mind and came up with nothing. The men gawked at each other, lost. Scout's only instinct at the moment told him to get away from the odor which hadn't all been carried outside. Suddenly, something made Sniper alert and he ordered his teammates in a hushed voice,

"Hold your breath. I hear something." Heavy and Scout complied, and they waited for several agonizing seconds. Then they all heard the noise: faintly audible above the wind gently blowing inside, a man lay in front of the corridor in a pinstripe suit and mask straining to breathe. Sniper and Heavy stepped over a Demoman and a Medic and leaned over the Spy's double while Scout remained frozen against the wall. The two inspected a gash over the blue Spy's forehead and Heavy picked him up from the floor by the shoulders. Sniper tapped him softly, trying to get his attention. "Hey. _Hey._ Are you a'right?"

The injured man's eyes flittered open. He took one good look at Sniper and Heavy before he let out a gasp and fell back into unconsciousness into Heavy's arms. Sniper twisted his head at Scout. "What the hell are you standin' around for?" he shouted. "Go back 'n tell the others!" Scout took the hint. Returning to the fresh air helped his nausea fade away, but he felt that nothing less than a sprint would be enough to get away. Scout focused on his running, knowing he could not come up with any logical explanation right now without driving himself crazy.

He let out a sigh of relief once his building came into view, and never in his whole life was he so happy to see Pyro outside very much alive and building a rock pile. Scout whizzed by him, opened the door, and sprung back into safety. The other mercs had been lounging around the living room, most of them stood up to face Scout. Seeing he was by himself, a clamor followed,

"Vhere is Heavy?" asked Medic, looking concerned.

"Alright, son, how many casualties were there?" Soldier gripped Scout's shoulder.

"You look right scared, boy, tell us what happened," Engie encouraged him. Scout shoved Soldier's hand off and waved his arms around. He stammered for a few seconds before spitting out,

"Heavy an' Sniper should be back soon, but-" he inhaled deeply, "Aw crap, where do I even begin?" Scout flopped down on the couch next to Demoman. "OK," he sighed, "to make a long story short, we found a building that looks just like this one, and I _mean_ exactly, but everybody inside was freakin' _dead!_ Except for one guy, and the other two are bringin' him back here. He's a Spy."

"Oh, great, that's just what we need," muttered Demoman. "Another backstabbin' snake." Spy just smirked.

"No, no, he's not just _any_ Spy," Scout continued, feeling the heat rise in his body, "he's just like our Spy!" He started to chuckle hollowly, and he pointed to several of his teammates, "You were there, and you were, and you were there," he pointed at himself, "and I was there. We were all there, but wearin' blue." An uproar of confused questions that Scout had no way to answer followed. The whole room became hushed as Sniper came inside while Heavy supported the blue Spy, whose eyes were still closed, but he was able to walk on feeble feet. Medic rushed over to them.

Heavy said to the German, "Doctor, get this man water," and the Medic hurried off. The injured Spy was gently laid down on the carpet and Sniper provided a pillow. At some point, Sniper and Heavy put a bandage over the wound on his head. Medic returned with a glass of water; before he did anything, he said to the three men who had gone,

"Before I forget, I might as vell tell you zhat I've searched every room available to us, and I'd advise you not to get sick or injured in ze future, because zhere is no Medigun here." He added slyly, "Of course, I can still treat you myself to a certain extent." The Medic put on one of his famous unnerving grins. The news made Scout's skin crawl; that the mercs were provided with many of their weapons while probably the most useful specialized gun in their whole arsenal was conspicuously absent must have been by design.

While the team stood by waiting, the original red-clad Spy remarked cooly at his double, "Handsome rogue, isn't he?" He wasn't fooling anyone with his jest. Scout sat up in his seat,

"Someone tell Pyro go get back in here," he said. "We saw a coyote with rabies out there." Engie left the crowd and called out to the masked mercenary, who came inside in a huff for being separated from his game. The team's gaze remained locked to the blue-clad Spy. Minutes crept by while Heavy held him upright for Medic to pour the water down his throat.

Finally, the mysterious stranger came to life: He coughed and his eyes opened once more, and this time they stayed open as they darted back and forth at each man. The team leaned in closer, desperately craving answers. The man pushed himself from Heavy's grasp, crawled to a table and clutched a leg, and he spoke in a weak voice,

"W-who are you?" The voice was instantly recognizable to the team, only their Spy wouldn't _dream_ of speaking in that tone. Engie sat on his knees and said to him,

"We were wondering who you were, actually. Some of these fine gentlemen found you in a place just like this." When the blue Spy did nothing but keep staring wide-eyed, Engie assured him, "It's alright, you don't have to say a word if you don't want to right now." Scout was thankful for the Engineer and his Southern hospitality. Otherwise, the rest of the team might have overwhelmed the newcomer by now.

The blue Spy let go of the table leg and he sat upright. His body loosened just a bit. His gaze drifted over to the side,

"You're not my team." Engie shook his head. The blue Spy wiped his face, "I... was part of a group of mercenaries and assassins-for-hire," he swallowed. "There were 9 of us in total. I was designated as the Spy. We trained in a base located in Teufort, New Mexico for six months under the employment of the Builders League United, a subsidiary of TF Industries."

The mercs were nearly floored: That certainly explained the outfits' color, but they were completely at a loss for words. Was BLU a rival company to Reliable Excavation Demolition, their own employers? That seemed the most logical explanation. There was only one way to find out. Engie coaxed the BLU Spy to tell them what happened to his own team. The man turned away to wipe his face again. He turned back to the mercenaries with glistening eyes.

At last, he explained, monotone, "We woke up in strange pods this morning, I was the first to rise - it happened to you, too, didn't it? Well, we had no clue where we were, so we decided to see what was outside, and..." The BLU Spy brought his legs to his chest; under his mask, his face grew pale. "The Soldier, _our_ Soldier, he opened the door and..." Tears flowed down his cheeks and he weeped. Sniper and Engie drew closer to him.

The BLU Spy gripped a wet hand on Sniper's collar and cried, " _By God_ , something came from the shadows! A dark beast, it-" his words and body trembled, "-it tore them all apart. I shot at it, _but it wouldn't go down!_ " He let go of Sniper and bent over the floor face down, furiously pounding a clenched fist on the carpet under the eyes of the witnesses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 1: Evening**

Some time after the sky faded into purple, maybe a half-hour later, the BLU Spy picked himself off the floor, ignoring the sympathies thrown his way. Without saying a word, he went off into the bathroom and shut the shower's door. Meanwhile, an uneasy atmosphere clung to the air as the RED team left the recreational room to eat dinner.

Picking at his beets, Scout kept on trying to make sense of the situation, "Maybe we all secretly had twins the whole time that no one ever told us about. Ya never know, it could happen. I've heard stories where that kinda thing happened." He didn't buy his own theory. Engie scratched under his helmet and told the younger man matter-of-factly,

"You'll drive yourself crazy in no time flat, boy!" he leaned back in his chair. "For the sake of everyone's sanity, we shouldn't think too hard 'bout any kind of philosophical mumbo jumbo till we find out what's really goin' on." At these words, Demoman lifted his head.

The Scot lifted a shaky hand towards Engie and spat, "An ye can start by, oh I dunnae, getting that bloody door open _instead of blethering away!"_ Really, the fact that Demoman managed to get off the couch with the embroidered flowers and make it all the way to the table was miraculous in Scout's eyes. Engie raised his hands defensively,

"Alright, we can get started when we're done here. Sound good?" Demo put his head back down against the table and groaned.

Soldier moved his chair closer and pat him firmly on the shoulder. "Steady, private," he said encouragingly. "Soon you'll be ready to join back into the heat of battle, and when you do - by God - you'll make the enemy wish they were never conceived!" Demo turned over and gave Soldier a bitter smile. The Medic rather abruptly suggested,

"While ze matter of ze door is taken care of, a party including myself should go to zhat building viz all zhose dead bodies." He received quizzical glances, and he elaborated giddily, "I vish to examine ze bodies! To determine ze cause of death, you see." Most of his colleagues thought this was a sensible idea, considering it came from the mouth of the Medic. Heavy acknowledged that by saying to him half-jokingly,

"Doctor, you make too much sense."

Sniper threw a razor-sharp stare at the doctor. "You sayin' you don't believe what the BLU bloke told us?"

"Vell, as interesting as ze notion of a 'terrible beast' somehow killing several trained men is, I find it very unlikely." Medic turned up his nose. Sniper's response was cut short by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The BLU Spy came to a stop at the threshold and stood before the men unmasked. From the corner of his eye, Scout noticed a strange expression on his Spy's face as he glared at his counterpart - anger, shock, disgust? It wasn't easy to say.

If it hadn't been for the sheer amount of bizarre happenings occurring in less than 24 hours, the mercs might have been more astonished at the sight, but at this point they could only find the reveal of his bare face mildly interesting. With his graying, combed black hair and weathered, yet sharp face, it really was no surprise that the class would find himself the object of many ladies' attention back at Teufort. The Medic had put stitches over the BLU Spy's wound, and Scout was sitting close enough to notice his red-rimmed eyes, but otherwise he looked no less worse for wear.

The man clad in blue avoided eye contact with the men, and he explained to them flatly,

"Since I'm no longer part of a team, I thought the mask was unnecessary now." He shuffled his feet. "To avoid confusion, and because I'm the one in _your_ space, you can call me Marais from now on."

"Is that your real name?" Scout inquired. Marais shook his head, wearing the faintest of smiles,

"Of course it isn't." He took a few steps away from the kitchen before he turned back. "I heard you discuss what I said," he looked in Medic's general direction, "Whatever killed my team, it was neither human nor animal. When I said it came from the shadows, I meant it literally." No one attempted to ask him to explain further as he left.

Scout snapped the RED Spy out of his state by asking him in a whisper,

"What does Mar-eye mean?" Spy paused for a second before answering,

"It's a name that means marsh. If you're asking for the significance of his choice, I wouldn't know."

* * *

Scout kept adjusting his position every few seconds, changing it whenever some part of the pod's styrofoam inside dug into his back, which was all the time. The only way he could make it tolerable was to put a pillow right in the middle, the trade-off being that he wouldn't be able to lie down flat. The only way he must have managed to fall asleep for the journey here was by someone having to drug him, Scout thought bitterly.

With a bit of elbow grease, the pods could be moved, and so the team spread them all out to various wings. Scout kept his pod in the room where they originally woke up, thinking the night light filtered from outside would make for a calming atmosphere. Instead, the dirty windows just made the space a touch too dark for Scout's liking, and shards of rock carried by wind constantly rapped the sides of the compound.

Pyro slept somewhere in the armory, and Scout listened to his steady breathing through the gas mask. On the other side, Marais lay on the floor wrapped in a blanket provided for him and stared up at the ceiling wide-eyed. For once in his life, Scout felt a bit sorry for a Spy, but what could he do about it?

Isolating himself from everything around him and all his thoughts, Scout drifted off into darkness.

 _He was home again with his mother only a few feet away, looking towards the morning light from her favorite red chair, wearing a white bathrobe that almost glowed with the brilliance of a gem. She sat with her feet pulled up onto the chair and her arms curled around them. His mother was in the living room where Scout and his brothers always played games on the worn-out green carpet. She ran a hand through her raven hair, sighing. Then, she wiped her cheeks. Scout tried to ask his mom what was wrong, but his words remained in his mind._

 _Scout was horrified: he felt nothing of his body, only able to move his eyes. And she didn't even know he was there. Scout spotted movement behind the white curtains; he realized it wasn't the wind moving them when the vague shape of a body manifested. He tried calling out to her, 'Ma, there's something in the curtains!'. His mother kept looking out at the view of the city. Scout repeatedly called her name over and over, and not once did she give any sign of noticing him._

 _The shape moved again, and an arm of pure ebony emerged. The hand reached out its elongated, needle-sharp fingers towards her neck. Scout's silent cries turned into shrieks. The arm kept stretching itself, and the figure's dark face peeked out ever so slightly to watch with hungry blood eyes, licking its rotten teeth. Its fingers curled around his mothers' neck..._

Scout screamed for his mother and pounded his head against the pod's rim. He tumbled out of it to get away from the pool of sweat, lying down on the ground which was now the right temperature to cool down his sweltering skin. Scout's gaze remained locked onto the ceiling fan while his heart slowed back down. He turned his head to Marais, who looked back at Scout with total understanding.


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 2: Dawn**

Finally, after an agonizing wait, a new day had arrived. Scout sat up on the building's roof, balancing himself so he wouldn't fall. With heavy eyes, he gazed at the rising sun surrounded by a fiery sky, and leaned back so he could take in the sight. Scout was starting to worry the sun would never come again. Yet the young man recognized that the scene instilled in him both comfort and apprehension: While it truly was a beautiful sight, it was also a grim reminder that inside this wasteland, time had not stopped, and it probably hadn't stopped outside the wasteland, either.

Following several unsuccessful attempts to fall back to sleep, Scout had wandered around the room until he looked up and caught sight of a sky window casting pure rays of moonlight down over him from the ceiling. It was Marais who lifted him up so he could open the locks. Scout managed to heave himself onto the flat surface of the roof. He must have spent an hour just admiring the crescent moon. It would make the perfect place, he decided, to get away from the stuffy interior, and the perfect place to go if he ever needed to sit and think.

And so, here he was. The sounds of the other men moving around on the floor below getting dressed snapped Scout out of his trance. Because the roof wasn't too high up from the ground floor, Scout had no trouble jumping down to meet his visibly irritated colleagues. Then he remembered what he'd done just a few hours before, and he looked away from them. Scout could feel their cold glances pierce his back, but they gave him no crap over his outburst during the night.

The issue regarding the mysterious door came up once again, it having been forgotten sometime before they hit the sack. They met up with Demoman, who lay on the flowery couch the whole night and in the meantime didn't move once, and he pleaded with Engie to open the door _right this instant._ His body covered in sweat, Demoman's words came out tensely, and the mercs could not ignore just how rapidly he was deteriorating. "Please," he said with a dry mouth, "I need ta know what's down there..."

Engie tried his best to reassure him while also being realistic, "This door here is made of strong stuff," he knocked against it with his fake hand, the two metals creating a loud clanging noise as they collided. "We can try guessing the password, but if it comes down to breaking through this thing, we're gonna need some real firepower."

Demo wiped his brow and flashed an uncertain grin. "Ach, I'm afraid I won't be too much help with that..." Then Medic waved a hand and told him,

"Ve understand your situation, friend!" He leaned over the Scot and whispered, "Now, if you begin to see zhings, let us know and ve'll tie you down so you von't hurt yourself." Demoman's eye widened. Soldier and Engie crowded around the keypad, and Soldier tried various 4-number passwords the mercs would use back at the base, with no luck. With each unsuccessful try, Soldier tapped on the keys more and more aggressively.

Soldier looked over at Heavy and Engie and bellowed, " _Come on, you trash maggots!_ If you don't get off your high horses, I'll just have to tear down this door with my bare hands!" Heavy put his hand over his mouth to conceal his laughter as Soldier immediately got down to his knees and brought out his hands towards the gap between the door and the floor; of course, his fingers were much too thick to fit in the tight space, but that didn't stop Soldier from jamming them against the gap in an attempt to squeeze his sausages for fingers in there.

The rest of the team looked on, amused, but finally Engie shooed Soldier away from the door. The Texan politely told the men to go outside, and he went with Heavy to find some explosives, while Demoman would stay inside to help walk them through the process of destroying the door. Once outside, Pyro immediately skipped away to go prancing around by the bare trees. Soon, the other men slipped into conversation,

"It's unfortunate what's happening with your Demoman," said Marais (with a surprising amount of sympathy, Scout thought). "The one on my team, he was a drunk as well."

"Yes, ve'll have to vait and see vhat happens!" Scout felt a pang of unease upon seeing the gleam in the doctor's eyes. Spy chimed in, rubbing his temples,

"He's not the only one going through withdrawal." Then he asked his counterpart, "What about you?" Marais shook his head,

"I quit around six months ago, actually." After Marais said this, Sniper, who was previously only observing the others from a few feet away, pointed out to Spy,

"Listen, mate, you're still able to stand. Don't ya think maybe you're whinging a bit?"

"If I were, I'd be saying 'I want to end my life, for no one knows the pure agony I'm suffering.' " Spy replied, shifting into a melodramatic tone at his pretend-whining. "Besides, why should I feel sympathetic for a man who chose to make a fool of himself for years on end?" As Sniper and Spy stared each other down, the bystanders all took a few steps back. Sniper came forward until the two men were at stabbing distance from each other. Scout averted his eyes and saw Soldier pounding his fists, muttering something under his breath, something like '...go on and knock that frog to the ground...'

Meanwhile, Medic couldn't hide his enthusiasm at the prospect of a potential fight if he tried. Scout took in a deep breath and circumvented the group until he stood at a safe distance from Spy's side,

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it..." he winced. At the same time, Marais put a hand on Sniper's shoulder, only for the Aussie to shake it off. Spy and Sniper's eyes were locked onto each other; they paced around like two predators waiting for one to make the first move. Soldier had turned to Medic, and the two were placing bets on who would win. Apprehensively, Scout tapped Spy's shoulder and ducked in case he hit back; Marais frantically murmured in Sniper's ear.

As Sniper and Spy put their hands to their sides, Scout wondered if maybe he should run back in and grab his bat, but just as quickly thought against it. The two men weren't armed, but that didn't mean they weren't capable of fighting. Scout and Marais were about to step in between the two when, right before Scout's eyes, the tension seemed to literally dissipate into the air. Spy and Sniper broke off their stare and they walked off in opposite directions. Medic and Soldier were visibly disappointed, and they too walked away, almost pouting.

Scout breathed a sigh of relief, but Spy gestured him to come join him as he passed. Scout pointed at himself to confirm this, and Spy nodded, scowling. The young man followed Spy to the side of the compound, where the generator roared only a few feet away. Spy brushed some dirt off his pants and said sourly,

"I've given this all a great deal of thought. This whole business is a test of our psychological fortitude."

"Oh, really?"

"Think," Spy went on. "Why give us all our weapons except the ones that can heal? Our captors are watching us, waiting to see if we all turn into animals and slaughter each other." He put a hand on his chest, "I feel no shame in admitting that I contributed to the tension. It's these damn headaches!"

Scout scratched his nose, replying, "Sure it is." He rolled his eyes. "So, uh, is that all you wanted to talk about?" Spy's whole poise changed - his muscles eased and he went back to his usual cool demeanor. He said to Scout quietly,

"You woke everyone up with your screaming last night." Scout seized up,

"What? Did I? I don't remember. Are you sure it was me?"

"You're the only one who screams with that high of a voice." Scout groaned, defeated; Spy leaned in closer to him and continued, "Scout, these are troubled times. From this moment forward, we need to make certain that we carry ourselves with dignity. No matter what happens, no matter how much you miss your mother, you _cannot_ break in front of our comrades. If one of us falls, the rest will fall in no time, and then we'll all be _fucked!_ Do you understand, boy?" By this time, Spy was leaning so far inwards that Scout had to slip from under his unforgiving eyes.

Scout gulped, "Yeah, I got it. I got it." They both flinched upon hearing Engie counting down to zero, and Scout hurriedly covered his ears. The resulting sound of destruction moments later rattled the building's walls and Scout's bones with it. The mercs ran to get back inside. The silver-colored door proved not to be impenetrable, a man-sized hole having been blown right through the middle of it with C4, though Scout wondered how Heavy would be able to fit in there.

Besides the charred floor and bits and pieces of scrap metal strewn all over it, plus the odor of smoke that was rapidly leaving the building, the room the mercs called the recreational area was otherwise unaffected, no doubt due to it's size. Engie, Demoman, and Heavy congratulated each other on a job well done. The team gathered around the hole to peer through, and instantly froze as they were greeted with a staircase that led right into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

A strange mood struck the mercenaries as they looked down into the endless darkness. For nearly a minute no one made a sound. What could only be described as a primal, unspoken fear that most humans share, that of the unknown, prevented the men from entering the hole; that was the only explanation Scout could come up with for the eerie silence that choked each and every one of them - with one exception.

Soldier looked around incredulously, "You can _not_ be serious!" he scoffed. "I was under the impression that we were all men here! Well, call me blind because you sure fooled me. Fool me once, shame on me-"

"Y'wanna go first, soldier boy?" asked Engie. "Y'need a flashlight?"

"Do you have a pea brain, private? I will be shot on sight! I must go unnoticed by the enemy!" Soldier pushed the men aside and marched to the hole. Gingerly, he stepped inside, his helmet scraping against the metal as he went. Once Soldier got his bearings on the steps, he turned back to his comrades and puffed out his chest, "You ladies can stay behind and hold down the fort," he grunted. "If I don't return by next morning, call the goddamn President." No one objected to this. Soldier held his handgun protectively against his chest and began his descent.

The remaining mercs watched the crazy bastard go until his red jacket disappeared and his footsteps faded away into the void.

"He's aff his heid," Demoman chuckled, and then lay back down on his couch. With nothing else to do, the other mercs backed away from the hole and spread out to the different seats in the room, with Engie sitting closest to the hole, not knowing how long it would take for Soldier to traverse underground. Scout had thought long and hard about what might lay at the other end, and he was pretty sure it would be something really anticlimactic, almost certain the stairs would just connect their place to the BLU's.

The men waited around, either just watching the hole with sharp eyes or sitting off somewhere daydreaming; Scout took to aimlessly doodling on a desk. The next 15 minutes or so slipped by, with no sign of the Soldier.

"Must be a long stairwell," Engie mused. "Er maybe he's lookin' around at somethin'." Scout put down his pencil, having been jolted by a feeling that clutched his chest; he counted the number of men and found that someone was unaccounted for. He parted his lips to ask where Pyro was, only managing to get out one syllable before a piercing shriek emanating from the hole stabbed at their ears, and it was coming closer by the millisecond.

At once, the mercenaries sprung from their seats and rushed over to the hole while the Engineer stuck his head through. Mere seconds later, Soldier came back into the light crawling on his knees. His helmet had fallen off, his gun had disappeared, and he kept looking back into the darkness with crazed eyes. Soldier ceased his bloodcurdling cry once he saw his team, and he whimpered, pointing at something the others could not see. Engie and Heavy grabbed him by the arms and dragged him through, unintentionally letting the jagged edges of the wall scrape deep into his legs as they pulled him through.

Scout slapped his hands against his face; he couldn't believe it! - shit just kept getting weirder and weirder by the hour! Marais fidgeted and left the room in a hurry. While Soldier was sat next to Demoman on the couch, Medic stood over him and waved his hand in front of his eyes to focus them, while Engie asked in a raised voice,

"What in the Sam Hill happened to you?!" Soldier did not respond. Instead, the best way to describe the look on his face was that he seemed to be "out of it." Soldier's head turned to Engie, whose eyes were looking far beyond him. He blinked and shook his head. Finally, after opening his eyes again, Soldier stared straight into Engie's goggles with a confused expression,

"I... went down a few steps," he said, his tone strangely soft. "It was real dark down there. Real dark." He licked his lips. Soldier stared at the team almost as if he didn't recognize any of them. "After that, well, my mind's totally blank." His voice trailed off. Scout leaned over and groaned,

"You tellin' us you don't remember?" Soldier nodded. Scout walked around in a circle with his arms raised.. "Great. That's just freakin' _great!_ Whadda we do now?"

Engie pointed a finger at him, "I'll tell ya what we're doin'! We're gonna ignore that hole over yonder till Soldier gets his head back on, that's what!" Demo shuffled in his seat,

"Aye right." he murmured while looking between the hole and Soldier, who sat motionless, still utterly dazed. Before anything else could happen, Scout asked the question he'd been meaning to ask for the past five minutes; at this the remaining classes grew more agitated than before. Scout immediately bolted outside and called out into the vast space until his throat hurt from screaming Pyro's name. Only the wind answered him. He strained his eyes and legs frantically running around the building to look in all directions and saw nothing more than the same sparse trees.

When he'd finally had enough of going in circles, Scout clenched his fists,

"That's it, man!" his voice echoed all around. "Go get bit by some animal if ya want, ya freak, I. Don't. _Care!_ " He petulantly kicked the dirt. Scout came back inside, keeping his eyes to the floor. The Engineer wrapped an arm around his shoulder,

"Y'know we gotta find Pyro," he told Scout. "Y'know we gotta go out 'fore it's too late." Scout nodded. The men turned to Marais, who sheepishly peeked out from behind the doorframe,

"Ah, before we do anything, someone should cover that hole," he said with urgency.

"Ye want ta glue the pieces o' metal back on?" snarled Demoman.

"No, I just think it should be covered up..." Marais brought down his head. "I don't like looking at it." He inhaled sharply and contradicted himself, "Forget I said it. I'm acting like a child." Marais continued to stay partially hidden while the Engineer asked everyone else to gather around.

The mechanic composed himself and planned to divide everyone up into groups of two or three; Engie was intending to stay behind with Soldier and Demoman, but the Scot waved it off,

"Ach, we can take care o' ourselves. We're not that far gone yet!" Engie didn't disagree with that. At that moment, a switch flipped inside Soldier, and he stood at attention,

"Wait just a minute!" he protested at his usual volume. "Do you sons-of-bitches expect me to sit by while we've got a man who's gone MIA?" Scout was shocked at how relieved he felt at hearing that barking voice again. Soldier went on through gritted teeth, "But I promise you, if it turns out that Pyro is a deserter, I will not hesitate to kick his fire-happy ass all the way to the moon!" Scratch that: Scout wasn't _too_ relieved.

Soldier remained standing with his arms folded while Medic, dripping with barely concealed irritation, haphazardly wrapped bandages around his legs. The others cast aside their questions; they could try asking him again what happened later when this business was taken care of. The dividing of the men continued. Demoman was content to stay behind on his own, leaving an easy four groups of two to spread out in each direction: Engie and Soldier for west, Scout and Spy for south, and Sniper and Marais for east; meanwhile, Medic and Heavy were to search the BLU compound in the north.

Unhappy with Engie's decision to pair him up with Spy, Scout tried objecting, but he was ignored by all. Sulking, Scout followed the mercs to the armory. Each man armed themselves, with the agreement to fire off two shots in a row if Pyro was found or if they needed help. The Engineer made one last thing clear: 'Get back before nightfall, even if you haven't found anything.' Soldier found himself a new helmet and was the first to march outside.

The 9 remaining men stood together under the midday sun; even Demoman dragged himself outside. The mercenaries wished each other good luck,

"If anythin' happens," Engie sighed, "Well, it was... very interestin' to work with y'all." Scout couldn't help but wonder deep down if yesterday would be the last time Team Fortress could be considered a full team, but he pushed the thought away. As the groups departed, Marais quickly went back to whisper into Medic's ear before rejoining Sniper.

The four groups went off in each direction, and Demoman stayed out to watch them go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 2: Noon**

The RED's building was nearly out of sight, and the east and west groups were nothing more than red and blue specks in the distance. Scout strolled at a casual pace and was whistling, prompting Spy to snap at him, "Stop that!" and he cut his tune short. The two men avoided looking at each other, choosing to silently scan the landscape for anything, _anything_ at all. After some time, out of the blue, Scout decided to lighten the mood,

"Hey, ya know what'd be funny?" he waited for Spy to say 'what' but he kept his eyes locked onto the horizon, though Scout didn't care. "What if... we found another building that's the same as ours, but - get this - there's even _more_ people who look like us, 'cept they wear yellow or somethin'!"

"Don't say that," muttered Spy. "I'd rather not think about a third me running around." Scout faced Spy and walked backwards,

"Don't like that Marais guy, huh?"

Spy snorted. "He looks like me, he sounds like me, but he is not like me."

"Uh, I think that's a good thing."

"That's not what I meant!" the Frenchman retorted. "It's difficult for me to explain. I understand that, no matter what truly happened yesterday, he's seen things no man ought to, but..." he furrowed his brow, "something about his mannerisms are troublesome. Scout, in my profession we spend most of our time either observing people, pretending to be people we are not, or both. When you've been at it as long as I have, you're forced to gain the ability to read body language, pick up on subtle clues that give people away, etc."

Scout folded his arms. "Ok, Sherlock, what's up?"

"My point is: I believe this Marais character is deliberately hiding something from us. He knows more than what he's told us." When Spy only received a puzzled face from Scout, he conceded, "I can't say for certain this is the case and I'm going mostly by what my gut tells me," he lightly beat against his stomach, "but one thing I'm certain of is that his shy schoolgirl act is just that: a front." Scout burst out laughing,

"Hey, he _does_ kinda act like a girl!" he agreed.

"Well," Spy said. "When, or if, we're able to return to the base, I'll be sure to have a long-overdue talk with him." The men grew quiet once more and returned to the task at hand.

* * *

There were too many footprints. Sniper was crouched to the ground, trying to make heads or tails of which direction Pyro could have possibly taken. His boot marks went in every direction. He ran in circles, in straight lines, and in random patterns, as if the masked man were chasing after a butterfly just out of his reach. Hopefully, Pyro wasn't running _away_ from something. All the while, Marais stood over Sniper, interested. The Aussie wished he wouldn't stand so close. Exhaling, Sniper stood back up and said, "This better not be a game he's playin'." Marais agreed,

"He's so unpredictable, isn't he? If Scout hadn't said he was gone, why, I don't think we would have noticed anything. Our Pyro was exactly the same way." he looked up at the clear sky wistfully. Marais and Sniper resumed walking and Sniper went on the lookout for isolated footprints. From the corner of his eye, Sniper noted that Marais kept his head turned up at the sky,

"Mind if I ask ya somethin'?"

"Hm?"

"I know ya haven't been here long, but," Sniper chose his next words carefully, "Uh, you'd ya say we're all like your team, personality-wise?" Marais chuckled, his eyes drifted back down.

"Mostly," he sighed. "Though I should be honest: It may be too early to speak ill of the dead, but our Sniper - _heh -_ he was always so _rude_. Always threatening to throw his piss at us! You, on the other hand, seem to be more polite." Sniper chuckled to himself - if only he knew. Then, Marais stopped in his tracks. His smile faded away. "No, I wouldn't call any one of them my-" he swallowed, "-my friends." Marais began walking again, but he took on a blank expression. Sniper looked away from him, somewhat regretful.

He didn't expect Marais to start talking just a minute later, but he did. "I never did thank you all for saving me," the BLU Spy's voice was weak.

"No worries." Sniper lowered his hat. But the man wouldn't shut up,

"I know your teammates don't trust me. I don't blame them. I have trouble believing myself, really..." Sniper nodded, cursing himself that he didn't keep his trap shut from the start. "...Do you believe me?"

"What?"

"Do you _believe_ what I've told you?" Marais repeated slowly. Sniper thought about it for a few seconds. That whole mess he saw inside the BLU compound was real, no doubt about it. Still, a monster? Considering all the dangerous creatures already known to exist on Earth, some of which that can make a human question his place in the world(especially in his homeland), who was Sniper to say for certain? So Sniper only gave Marais a shrug.

* * *

Heavy pointed out the coyote's lifeless body which was now swarmed with flies to Medic as they made their way to the BLU building. That coyote and those flies were the only animals the men had seen so far, Medic noticed. "Have you even seen any birds in the sky?" he asked Heavy.

"Not yet," replied his comrade.

"How strange." In a way, the doctor was glad his pet wasn't out here to potentially be in danger. Medic took some comfort in knowing he wasn't the kind to lock his birds in a cage. Archimedes could take care of himself. Yet thinking about his beloved bird reminded Medic of a distressing dream he had the night before. He recalled images of Archimedes being surrounded by a murder of red-eyed crows while he sat perched on top of a grave. One by one, the crows descended upon Archimedes, and when they were finished clawing and biting he was nothing more than a pile of white feathers.

During this nightmare, Medic felt frozen, helpless to stop the crows. And standing too far away to be deciphered, a pitch-black form stared straight into Medic's eyes. That was all he could remember.

Their destination came into view, and Medic focused back on reality - he and Heavy had work to do. The two came upon the BLU Soldier, who had fallen onto his side since yesterday; Heavy didn't bother sitting him back up. Medic clutched his medical kit tightly with one hand and looked under the Soldier's helmet with the other. Then, he inspected the stain on the man's chest.

Humming, Medic lay the body flat onto the dirt. Heavy leaned against the wall and watched as Medic opened his kit,

"Should we go inside?" he pointed out. Medic looked up at him and grinned,

"If you don't mind ze smell!"

"That is fine." Heavy picked up the corpse by the collar with one arm and dragged him to the door, the body's legs kicking up dust as it went. Medic stepped inside first and took in the tableau that lay before him. If only he could take a picture. With all these bodies to examine, Medic would surely be here for some time, and he didn't mind that at all. He and Heavy looked over at the silver door and found that at some point, it too had been blown through. They would have to ask Marais if anyone ever ventured down the stairs.

Medic motioned Heavy towards the kitchen, and in there Heavy dropped the dead Soldier on the table the way one drops a load of inanimate objects. Heavy reminisced, "The bodies are like story you told."

"Vhat story?"

"The one with village cows!" The men shared a hearty laugh over something only they would understand. Eventually, when the laughter subsided, Medic wiped a tear off his cheek. He gazed down at the body, rubbing his gloves. Heavy took to pacing around the kitchen while Medic unpacked his kit and inspected his scalpels intensely, grabbing a can of corn. The Russian easily tore off the lid and made short work of the can's contents.

Medic was in the process of getting the Soldier's grenades out of the way when Heavy said, frustrated, "I get sick of sitting and waiting in base all day. Maybe I should go away, find rescue." Not breaking his eyes off his instruments, Medic replied,

"Of course. Vould you mind if I followed you?" Heavy bowed over-dramatically,

"It would be great honor!" Although it had been entertaining so far to watch his teammates begin to fracture up close, Medic wasn't so stupid that he would stay on a train that was about to crash. Medic set out his tools in a neat little row. Now the fun could begin. True, he wasn't a coroner by profession - it was more of a hobby.

First, the doctor unbuttoned the Soldier's jacket. Right in between the ribs, at the center of a pool of blood, Medic peered at the wound area, and he adjusted his glasses to make certain he was really seeing what was right under his nose. At this discovery, Medic feverishly grinned. He stood back upright with an air of pride. Noticing this, Heavy looked down at the body, and he recognized the significance of the doctor's findings,

"Could be something else," he suggested. Medic looked right into his eyes,

"You and I better look at ze rest of ze bodies and find out!"

* * *

Being around Soldier gave Engie an uneasy feeling in his gut, more so than usual. Soldier had his arms behind his back and marched like clockwork, not once moving the upper half of his body. The Texan could see his eyes under his helmet - Soldier rarely even blinked. Something was wrong, Engie could feel it. Maybe Soldier would talk to him if he asked the right questions. Engie knew he was one of the few members of the team who could get through to him, but only sometimes, depending on Soldier's mood.

Engie took off his hard hat and used it like a fan; the temperature had shot up a few degrees since yesterday, easily, but that wasn't the real reason he was starting to sweat. He ran through different scenarios in his head, trying to determine what specific words would either rile Soldier up or appeal to him. It was no use. There was no way he could understand Soldier's mind. This was a man who would believe Demoman was an American on one day or an "Englishman with a dress" on the next.

All of a sudden, the Engineer felt a strange mix of hatred and pity in his heart for the Soldier. He wondered how anyone could live like Soldier does. But he was no psychologist, so Engie couldn't say for sure how much of Soldier's behavior was due to a sick mind, or how much was just him pulling the wool over his own eyes.

Engie wanted to find what happened down there more than anything, though, before anything else could happen, so he settled on a sentence that would hopefully encourage Soldier to open up. He opened his mouth to say, 'You can talk to me if you want, but I understand if you're not ready yet.' Only he wasn't able to. Engie and Soldier were coming up to one of the bigger trees when they spotted a gas mask peering out from the side.

Engie almost reeled back, and he and Soldier rushed over to Pyro, who stepped away from the tree. Pyro took a few shaky steps towards them with his hands held out, and to Engie's horror, drops of blood surrounded his feet. Pyro collapsed into the Engineer's arms, gasping. Engie stared in frozen shock as the Pyro's back oozed blood that slid down deep slash wounds which had pierced his asbestos suit.

Stone-faced, Soldier fired off two shots into the air; afterwards, he ran to Engineer and helped him hold up Pyro.


	8. Chapter 8

Scout and Spy jolted when they heard the shots ring out; they looked westward and spotted a full-body red suit between the Engineer and Soldier. Scout sprinted, almost leaving Spy behind in the dust. He drew closer to the group and let out a small wince upon seeing Pyro, his blood staining the arms of Soldier and Engie as they held him upright. Before Scout asked, Engie answered for him in a tense voice, "We jus' found him like this! Not a single other soul around..." Spy joined the group, and Sniper and Marais soon came.

Sniper shook his hands, "Wait, maybe he should just sit down till Medic shows up so he doesn't bleed too much, know what I mean? Maybe we should put pressure on his back?" Engie looked unsure,

"I don't think he's bleeding _that_ bad," he stared into Pyro's mask and asked him, "Do ya think ya can walk, buddy?" Pyro mumbled incoherently and shook his head. Soldier and Engie gently sat him on the ground, clutching his shoulders so he wouldn't fall down on his back. The seven men grew quiet and turned to the north, waiting. Scout had to look away from Pyro after a while, instead taking note of how some of his comrades were acting.

Marais's face was pallid and he held a hand over his mouth; he stood at a distance from everyone else. Probably unbeknownst to him, Spy glared at Marais as if he were a guilty man. Soldier stood dutifully by Pyro's side, but he hadn't spoken a single word about the situation. No 'Hang in there, private,' or 'I'm gonna find the pinko who did this and shove my fist down his throat,' or anything. All the while, Sniper grew increasingly agitated,

"Where the _hell_ are those blokes, anyway?" he finally exclaimed.

"They might not've heard the gun shots from inside that place," Engie answered him with certainty. "Someone should go on over and git 'em." All eyes fell on Scout. The young man swallowed his indignation and darted away. It was real sweet of them to let him go without backup, Scout thought. Whatever. Scout didn't want anyone that would just fall behind him. If whatever hurt Pyro had made its way over to Medic and Heavy by now, Scout imagined himself getting the hell out of Dodge, the other two be damned.

Slightly out of breath, Scout made it to the BLU building. The corpse wasn't outside anymore. Scout pinched his nose and hurried inside, immediately noticing that a few of the other bodies had been moved as well. The Medic's hushed voice floated from the kitchen, and Scout leaped towards the room; he almost turned right around at the sight of Medic poking at the dead Sniper's busted brains with a tool while Heavy was watching intensely, plus the lifeless bodies of the BLU Soldier and Scout laying next to them on the floor. Heavy looked up at Scout, but Medic ignored him. Through his pinched nose, Scout cried,

"Doc, something got Pyro, I dunno how bad he's hurt but we gotta get outta here!" Medic huffed and looked over at Scout, visibly upset,

"Ve heard ze shots, but I am not finished examining ze bodies yet!" and said in a pleading tone, "Give me just a few minutes, please. I'm in ze middle of-"

"Look, man!" Scout interrupted. "I don't think Pyro's gonna die in the next five minutes, but he and the others are gonna be real pissed off if ya don't come right away just 'cause you're playin' crime scene investigation." Scout wasn't going to stay in this stinkhole another second so he left, disgusted. Heavy grunted and followed after Scout, though he looked somewhat torn about it.

Taking a step outside, Scout and Heavy looked back. Seconds later, Medic emerged from the kitchen with his medical kit in hand, scowling. Heavy tried reassuring him,

"It is fine. We know enough." Suddenly, Medic's body jerked and he ran back towards the kitchen,

"I almost forgot," he said under his breath. The doctor rejoined Scout and Heavy, tucking something into one of his pockets. The three moved out into the wasteland, but Scout didn't bother running so fast on the way to the others.

* * *

If all of his regrets were to manifest in the form of stones, Demoman would have a mountain's worth and call himself king. He lay sprawled out shirtless on the couch, unable to stand the sweat making puddles in his top for another second. In his hands, Demoman held onto a bucket for dear life waiting for the bile in his throat to either go back down or finally expel itself. Every few minutes, the Scot had to vent his misery by cursing at everything and nothing at once.

But at least no one else would have to see or hear him do so. He didn't want to listen to anymore of their half-arsed sympathies, anyway. What Demoman wanted more than anything during this time was for his body to at least let him _sleep!_ He hadn't slept at all since he got in this miserable hellhole. Hell... maybe he was dead, doomed to pay the price for his own personal vices for all eternity... Of course that couldn't be, but Demoman wouldn't be floored if that were the case.

No, he couldn't be dead, nor could he die at a time like this. Not when he still had messes to fix out there. Not when he could possibly make things right. Once, his Mum told him something to the effect of how most troubles are only as bad as one makes it out to be. Well, Demoman didn't quite agree, but in this instance he recognized that the key to making it out of here alive was to _keep the heid_. So Demoman made a vow to himself: Even if destiny said his body was past saving, his mind would not accept this. Tavish DeGroot swore he would fight till his last breath to keep living if he had to.

A small black spot appeared in Demoman's right eye. He waited for it to go away, but it didn't. Demoman's gaze shifted - two red dots for eyes looked straight into his soul. He blinked for good measure and still the form remained standing at the threshold of the recreational area and the corridor.

Demoman swallowed. "Who are ye?" he asked weakly. It did not answer, and it didn't move, either. At once, Demoman felt very cold, his mind raced with the possibilities: Could this be the Devil himself or one of his servants coming to take him to Hell? Or was a spectre haunting this place the whole time? Demoman asked another question, this time with more strength, "Is it me time?" He didn't think he might have to live up to his own words so soon.

An arm jutted out of the form, and it raised it up; in it's hand a bottle was produced, and not just any bottle. How the scrumpy's bottle glowed in the sunshine! It was almost comical how much it glittered, but Demoman found his fingers twitching excitedly. Then he remembered what Medic told him. "No. I'm startin' ta see things." He shut his eye. "Get out o' my mind, ye bloody fiend," he commanded the figure, growling. He counted to five and opened his eye.

The bottle had vanished, but the figure was still there, staring. Demoman chuckled and set the bucket down. He looked straight into it's eyes, which seemed to be glowing more intensely. "If yer really here fer me," Demoman rose up and put his fist to his chest, "Then ya'll haf ta drag me ta hell!"

Then the pitch-black shape didn't start walking, rather, it started sliding towards the man, never once taking it's gaze off of him. With his newfound strength, Demoman was prepared to either charge at the thing or run outside, though he couldn't decide what he wanted more. The figure slid no more than two feet when it came to a sudden halt. The eyes shifted on their own to look at the side, and Demoman realized it was looking towards the hole.

It kept staring at the dark hole for about a minute, while the Scot's knees were getting wobbly. After an agonizing wait, the shadow fell through the carpet until there was no trace of it ever being in the room in the first place. Breathing out, Demoman collapsed back onto the couch. He wasn't sure what to make of it, until something made sense to him: The hole, or whatever's down those stairs, repelled the creature. Then again, Demoman couldn't be sure if his own eye could be trusted.

But even with his impaired vision, the form appeared 3-dimensional, it looked like it took up actual _space!_ The headaches flared up again, forcing Demoman to lay back down. Just then, his ears picked up the sound of footsteps hurrying towards the entrance.


	9. Chapter 9

**Day 2: Afternoon**

For Scout, it was a relief to see Demoman still sitting on the embroidered couch alive(though definitely not well). However, the one-eyed man hardly seemed to notice the rest of the mercs returning with the heavily injured Pyro in tow. Scout quickly updated Demoman on the situation and all he replied with was a murmured "Interestin'." Meanwhile, Medic and Heavy carried Pyro over to the kitchen, with the doctor barking orders to the others to go get some blankets for the table.

After everyone came back inside most of the team splintered off into different rooms, leaving Scout alone with Demoman. Really, what use would he be at a time like this, Scout figured. He turned to Demoman, who still sat motionless,

"Yo, anythin' happen while we were gone?" Scout meant this as more of a joke, but a few seconds later Demoman answered flatly,

"Ach, I think I'll tell ye later, when things calm down a wee bit," his eye peered at the blasted silver door. Scout folded his arms,

"Ya can tell me about it if ya want."

"I... need some time ta think." Scout shrugged and wandered off into the corridor. He passed the bathroom, where Soldier and Engineer were washing the Pyro's blood off their skin; Engie was furiously scrubbing the stains off his gloves before he decided to leave them in the sink. On the other side of the corridor wall, in the kitchen, Heavy held Pyro's shoulders down while the _very_ livid Medic tried determining how he should go about examining the back wounds without taking off Pyro's suit. Everyone else besides Scout and Soldier came in to lean against the walls and watch intently.

Soon, after Medic evidently had enough of trying to get through Pyro's suit, the doctor picked up a larger-sized scalpel and began slicing down the middle. The masked man took sharp breaths, and he whimpered, panicked. Hearing this, Engie bolted into the kitchen, almost knocking Scout down as he went,

"What're you doin'?" Engie asked the doctor,

"Isn't it obvious?" Medic grumbled. "His suit is in my vay. I'm trying to examine ze vounds, see vhat may have caused zhem!"

"Just put the bandages on. Pyro can let us know what happened if he's up to it." The snorting laughter of the Spy filled the air, and all eyes fell on the Frenchman, who said to Engie,

"You think he'll tell us what happened? That's rich. Pyro wouldn't take off his mask and let us understand him even if his life depended on it!"

Engie stepped closer to Pyro and stood in a protective stance, "Now look, boys," he told the other men, "Pyro obviously ain't ready to talk about it. Just like how Soldier ain't ready either or forgot what he saw." Soldier was standing next to Scout peering into the kitchen, and he flinched. "I know it's all confusin', but as long as we all stick together from here on out, we should be fine." Pyro reached out his hand, and Engie held it.

Way back at the farthest end of the room, Scout saw Marais shake his head,

"No," he said. "We won't be safe. That creature can attack at any moment, at any time. We were all together, but it struck anyway." Marais visibly shivered. Just then, Demoman came shambling down the hall; Scout and Soldier stepped towards him in case he might fall, but Demoman carried himself with confidence. Before Medic or Spy could make their retort to Marais, the Scot walked into the kitchen,

"I belive him." he said. "I saw somethin' while ye were all gone." Demoman raised his arms, "One second nothin' was around, and one second later I saw a shadow standin' right in front o' me!" Marais came forward,

"Yes!" he cried out. "It was a shadow! Did it have red eyes?"

"Aye, blood-red." A clamor rose among the men, half of them asked Demoman to elaborate and the other half decried him as crazy. When the noise level dropped enough Demoman explained to the others what he saw, how the shadow tried tempting him with booze before disappearing almost as quickly as it came. But Medic was not convinced,

"Your condition has advanced, you're seeing apparitions!" he pointed an accusing finger at Marais, "It's _him_ , he's filling your head viz nonsense!" to which the color of Marais's face went from white to pink within seconds.

Sniper stepped beside Marais and snapped at Medic, "What makes ya so sure about that, Doc?" Medic and Heavy shared a knowing glance. The doctor opened his mouth but Pyro whimpered quietly again, and then everyone remembered why they were all in the kitchen in the first place. Medic gave Pyro a faux sweet smile,

"Aw, I'm very sorry, Pyro," he said in a baby-talk way. "Zhese gentlemen distracted me, but I'll get right back to making you all better." Tensions eased somewhat while Medic and Heavy turned Pyro's body and wrapped bandages around his torso. The other men backed off from the table, and waited patiently for Medic and Heavy to get done. Still partially hiding behind the doorframe, Scout mouthed to Soldier 'Should we do something?' and Soldier shook his head, his expression still totally blank.

It didn't make any sense, but Soldier's silence unnerved Scout more than anything. Not five hours ago he was encouraging Spy and Sniper to fight. On the other hand, it was for the best that another person wasn't stirring up trouble. Scout's instincts told him something was about to go down, but he desperately wanted to watch everything as it happened. He was only keeping himself out of the kitchen in case shit hit the fan so he could make a quick exit. Eventually, Medic was done with his work, the bandages bound tightly to Pyro's body.

The rest of the men agreed to leave Pyro be, so one by one they filed out of the kitchen, and Scout and Soldier followed. The nine went back to the recreational area. Demoman plopped back down on the couch and Soldier sat next to him. The others either sat or stood in an imperfect circle surrounding Medic and Heavy, making themselves their audience. Heavy looked down on his fellow mercs with a face that read utter contempt for them; Medic adjusted his glasses and grinned the way one does when they think themselves superior than anyone else in the room.

Once he had all the men's eyes, Medic reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife, holding the handle out for everyone to see. Spy patted his suit and relaxed once he felt his own knife. The doctor unfolded the knife and slammed the blade into the table where Marais sat closest, making the BLU Spy jolt,

"That was unnecessary," he remarked.

"Look closely," said Medic. The other mercs leaned closer to the knife: The blade was dull, covered in dry blood.

Marais looked up at Medic, confused. He explained, "I stabbed at the shadow and it drew blood. It hardly did anything, and I almost died trying." he then questioned Medic, "What are you getting at?" Medic and Heavy looked at each other again, and the German took one step closer to Marais,

"I only had ze chance to examine a few bodies before Pyro vas found, but vhat I did find vas _very_ interesting, and Heavy can attest to vhat I have to say." Medic paused, relishing the attention from his comrades. He glared at Marais and spoke deliberately so his English came out less accented, "There were bullet holes in some of their bodies, Marais. You shot at your team, and when you ran out of bullets you stabbed the rest, didn't you?"

The BLU Spy gawked at Medic, unable to speak, and everyone else was similarly stunned. Scout squirmed in his seat, unsure if he should move away from Marais, to whom he sat closest. Of all the men, only Spy seemed unfazed by Medic's words, no doubt sure that he had been right all along. The smile had faded from Medic's face, and it was replaced by pure disgust. Heavy joined in,

"You have your toys," he said to Marais. "More than any man here, a Spy could kill us all if he wishes." Marais trembled.

"It doesn't matter at the moment why you killed your team," Medic continued. "Anger? Carrying out the orders of an employer? Perhaps you simply lost your mind. Hopefully we'll find out soon enough. All I know is that no monster was responsible for this." Medic reached into another pocket and pulled out the BLU Scout's dog tags, and tossed them at Marais's feet. "You asked for this," and under his breath Medic added, "you bastard."

Marais picked up the trinket and held it delicately in his palm. He shook his head violently,

 _"You're wrong!"_ he spat out. "I saw it with my own eyes. Dear _God,_ I saw it kill them. _I did._ I swear on my life I did.." He held his hand to his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. Marais tried saying something else, but his crying choked him. Something inside Scout spurred him to come to his defense,

"What about Pyro, huh?" he pointed out. It wasn't that Scout doubted that Marais attacked his own team, rather that he was simply pointing out a flaw in Medic and Heavy's line of thinking. Indeed, the accusers were at a loss for words for a few stretched out seconds. Medic shot back at Scout,

"A wild dog with rabies appeared, no? An animal could have attacked Pyro, and if so, we'll have to pray it carried no diseases." The room fell quiet save for Marais's sobbing. The other mercenaries looked at Marais, their inner dilemmas plain to see on their faces. The sun was making its way down, washing the space in an orange-red hue. The silence was only broken when Demoman conceded,

"Maybe I _am_ goin' daft." Then the Engineer shot out of his seat and stood face-to-face with Medic and Heavy.

Engineer looked them both dead in the eye and said, "Now look here, you two, I ain't sayin' you're wrong 'bout what you found; in fact, I believe you, but-" A second cry broke out, this one coming from a distance, filtered, and terrified. The animosity blinked out of the men's minds. The nine made a mad dash towards the kitchen, several times almost knocking each other to the ground. In the few seconds it took for the men to burst into the kitchen, Pyro's cry had stopped abruptly.

They gathered around the table, where Pyro lay stiff as a board on his stomach. The Engineer and Medic stood over him, and they all slowly realized Pyro was not breathing. He was turned over on his back, and Engineer gripped his shoulders and shook them, "Wake up, partner, c'mon." the mechanic shouted at him desperately, "Please tell us you're okay! Say something, Pyro!" Medic pressed his head against Pyro's chest.

Scout was standing furthest away from Pyro, and he recoiled at all his teammates' dumbfounded expressions, reminding him of how totally lost they were when they first woke up yesterday,

"Somebody take off his mask!" he exclaimed. Only Medic responded, and he wrapped his fingers around Pyro's gas mask. The Engineer slapped his hands away, screaming,

 _"Get off him!"_

"Do you hear yourself, you _dummkopf?_ " the doctor protested. "I'm only trying to help!" The Engineer glowered at him - with one quick motion he smacked the Medic across the face, the force sending him straight to the floor; it was enough to make his glasses fly right off his head. The Engineer looked down with immediate regret at his cybernetic hand.


	10. Chapter 10

The Heavy picked Engineer up like a rag doll, high enough for his feet to dangle, leaving the others stunned at his speed. The Texan struggled to pry Heavy's fingers off of his overalls, to no avail. The rest of the mercenaries besides Medic felt very small compared to Heavy, but they barked at him to let Engineer go, with Scout wondering if this was the time to get out. Heavy glared at them with such ferocity he resembled a raging bear more than a human. He hissed through his teeth at Engineer, "Don't. Touch. Doctor." and finally let him go, Engineer's wobbly knees almost sending him to the floor.

While Engineer straightened out his overalls, Medic put on his glasses and stood up to go to a safe distance from the group, where he looked on with similarly intense eyes as Heavy. Engineer looked down at Pyro, tightening his lips,

"He's dead." he had to pause in order to let those words sink in, or to convince himself of the harsh truth. Engineer turned to Medic, "We could've saved him if we got back here sooner, but a _certain_ gentlemen decided that playin' around with dead bodies was more important than helpin' his own goddamn teammates." Medic stood defiantly in such a way that it was as if he were goading his colleague to keep trying to assassinate his character because he could take it. Heavy took a large step forward, but Engineer raised his hands, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

After he had taken a few moments to think, the Engineer took a deep breath and made several things clear to the men, "We're gonna bury Pyro and give him our respects. If any of y'all have reservations about that, keep your mouth shut during the service, alright? Lastly, I know we all wondered what he looks like under the mask, but _no one_ is to take it off or desecrate his body in any way, or so help me God I'll make you regret it. Got it?"

The rest of the mercenaries muttered under their breaths in response. In the chaos, they had nearly forgotten the events that unfolded just minutes before. All eyes fell on Marais, who looked away in shame. "We'll deal with ya later," said Engineer. "Just... stay back for now, alright?" Marais shrugged and walked towards the back room.

Heavy left to pick up Pyro's pod from the armory while Sniper and Soldier went to get a couple of shovels. The remaining men exited the kitchen; Medic and Engineer brought up the rear carrying Pyro's body with great care, holding him up by his arms and legs, and exchanged ice cold stares with each other the whole way. As they walked down the hall, Scout half-expected Pyro to spring back to life with a gasp of air and scare the living daylights out of everyone, but the body stayed stiff. The eight men plus a corpse stepped out into the twilight when a lone coyote wailed somewhere very far away. Soon, the cry faded into the dusk.

The pod was dropped to the ground; Medic and Engineer set Pyro down inside, folded his arms neatly, and shut the glass over him. Without a word, the men arranged themselves into a single-file procession: Heavy and Engineer were the pallbearers, Sniper and Soldier were the gravediggers, and the rest would be the mourners. Engineer held the front side of the pod, and he led the others to the land on the right side of the compound. The gravediggers chose a spot against the wall and dug their shovels into the dirt, with Sniper humming a tuneless song to himself as he worked.

Once a deep enough hole had been made, the pallbearers lowered Pyro and the makeshift coffin down into the earth. A chuckle escaped from Scout's lips and he hurriedly covered his mouth to hide his smile - seeing Pyro laid out in the pod reminded him too much of Snow White inside her glass coffin during the Disney movie. Fortunately, no one else noticed or cared that Scout laughed out loud. With effort, Scout forced a mournful expression onto his face.

The mercenaries gathered around Engineer, who was taking up a secondary role as a priest. No one bothered to take off their hats. He began, "Well, what can I say about Pyro? He was our teammate. In the short amount of time we, uh, knew him, he sure did live up to his name - well, I mean, ya couldn't call him _Pyro_ for nothin'! _Heh,_ ah..." His mouth hung open while he thought of what else to say. When he started receiving impatient glares, Engineer cleared his throat and asked, "Would any of y'all like to say somethin' on Pyro's behalf?"

Demoman, covered in sweat, broke from the group and apologized profusely, for he could hardly stand up anymore for this long. Before rushing back inside, Demoman went up closer to the grave and said nothing, only nodding at Pyro. Once Demoman had left, Engineer asked, "Okay, anyone else?"

"I would." Spy stepped forward casually. "Let's not delude ourselves or insult the Pyro with this mockery, shall we?"

"Don't do this, Spy," Engineer warned him in a low voice, but he wasn't fazed,

"Why not? Now you're making me feel sorry for Pyro." Spy looked down at the dead mercenary, " _Tsk._ How rich! Pretending like we have anything to say at all about someone we know nothing about," he pointed a long finger at his colleagues, "Tell me: Can anyone describe what they think Pyro's personality was? Adjectives like 'strange' or 'mysterious' won't do. What about his likes, his dislikes? Anything related to his profession doesn't count."

Spy let his questions hang in the air for a solid minute. A few times, someone would open their mouth, only to give up. "That's what I thought," Spy said to them. "He never cared to let any of us get a glimpse of his true self, and none of us ever cared to get close to him. So don't wave false eulogies in front of his face if you don't mean a word of what you say - he's dead! It's not like he can hear you. As for myself, I have only this to say to our fallen pyromaniac: May God have mercy on his - or her - soul." Spy stepped back into his place as if he hadn't moved at all.

Scout found himself agreeing with every word the Spy said. He was sure everyone other than Engineer agreed, too; Scout even caught Medic whispering 'Amen' to himself. The young man read their faces: he saw not sorrow at this loss, but fear in a subtle form where the harder one tries to hide it, the plainer it is to see for everyone else. They looked between each other and the building with narrow eyes, calculating who would be the next guy to bite the dust. A shiver ran down Scout's back from a wind that picked up from out of nowhere.

The Engineer conceded defeat, and he cut the memorial short. Soldier and Sniper piled on dirt until the coffin was hidden under a heap of tan earth.

"Should we get a marker for it?" Scout asked out loud.

"As long as there's only one body..." Engineer grimaced, "We don't need to." Thus ended Pyro's funeral. The men went back into the recreational area just as the stars were beginning to appear; Demoman sprang up from his couch looking as though he'd made a huge discovery,

"I been thinkin', an now somethin' makes sense!" he said excitedly. "That spook I saw today, it came back to kill Pyro. I told ye it tried to deceive me, but-"

"You agreed it vas only in your mind!" Medic pointed out sharply.

"Ach, I almost did. But ye heard Pyro cry out before he died, didn't ye?" The others nodded. Demoman wiped the sweat from his head, "He was _afraid._ He saw it, and it killed him... I dunnae how Marais fits in, but I'll have it sometime." He was so sure of himself, but the rest dared not to start up another fight,

"Well, let us know if ya see it again," Engineer told him politely. He motioned Sniper and Scout to come with him, and the three headed for the room where they first woke up. Some of the others tagged along. In the left corner of the room, bathed in darkness, Marais stood up from the floor to meet them, still not making eye contact. Scout, Engineer, and Sniper stepped up to him. From the hall, Medic, Spy, and Heavy peered at them.

Marais brought his hands to his chest. His face was almost saggy in the low lighting. "I'm sorry," Engineer told him gently. "You're allowed to stay here, but we've gotta keep ya in one room someplace."

"Not here," Scout whispered in Engineer's ear. "The armory's too close. How about the bathroom?"

"Hell no," disagreed Sniper. "I don't want him lookin' at me when I'm doin' my business! Put him up on the roof." Engineer turned them both down,

"I don't want him to jump off. The kitchen'll do." Raising their voices, Scout and Sniper pointed out that the kitchen was where a few of the men slept and it would be awkward to eat with him now, but Engineer retorted, "Look, boys, it's about the only place he can't do us any harm! There's enough room to sleep somewhere else, and if you're so goddamn scared at the prospect of eatin' with him, just grab your grub and find a different spot to eat!"

Engineer told Marais about his future accommodations, but at first the three men weren't sure if he was even paying attention. His eyes shifted to Sniper,

"You told me you believed me. Do you still think I'm telling the truth?" The Aussie flinched,

"I don't know anymore," he replied dryly. Marais turned to Scout,

"I never would have hurt my own team intentionally," a jingling sound came from his hands, and Scout saw the dog tags gleam from within, "no matter how much I sometimes hated them. Please-" finally, he looked at Engineer with desperation in his eyes, "Take me back there. I have to see it for myself."

"Not tonight," Engineer sighed. He grabbed Marais's arm and pulled him along, and the BLU Spy made no attempt to resist. Scout and Sniper went behind them and followed down the hall under the hate-filled stares of Spy, Heavy, and Medic. When they got to the kitchen, Marais went in. Medic quickly removed the bloody cloth from the table while Marais stopped at a corner of the room where the cans of food were stacked high. He sat on the tile floor and buried his face in his hands as the other men left him alone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 3: Before Dawn**

There was almost no privacy to be had in this place. Words had a way of being carried no matter where you were or how quietly you tried speaking. The Heavy knew this would be a problem, and he felt even the walls themselves had ears. He sat upright in his pod, which he was forced to move from the kitchen to the recreational room shared with Medic, Demoman, and Soldier. After much thought, Heavy decided that now was the time to act. If not, who knew what horrors he would have to face next?

He tiptoed away from his uncomfortable bed and went to Medic, who was buried under a pile of blankets. Heavy tapped on the doctor's shoulder to get his attention; immediately, Medic looked up at him clearly not having slept, either. Heavy gestured to the door, and when Medic got up the two stepped softly as to not rouse Demoman or Soldier. The door creaked open despite Heavy's best efforts, though fortunately the sleeping mercenaries' snoring masked the noise. Heavy and Medic walked out into the wasteland and stopped a few feet away.

"I think I will leave now," Heavy told the doctor when he assessed the area and decided it was safe. Medic nodded and delicately touched the left side of his face where a swollen pink bruise was forming. "Team Fortress is dead," Heavy said bitterly, "We have failed." Medic wore a thin smile,

"I believe you're right. And vhat shall you do after you leave?" Heavy shrugged,

"Go home for short time." The doctor looked out at the horizon,

"Good for you. As for myself, I..." he trailed off for a few seconds, "I'll try finding Archimedes. I'll break into the base if I must, and after zhat," Medic beamed, "vell, I'll look for someone who needs my expertise." Heavy gave him a friendly pat on the back, and the two began discussing their plan, quickly agreeing that they should pick up supplies from the BLU building before continuing to venture northbound. But while they were at the other place, they would lay the dead men to rest. The last part was Heavy's idea: after having to bury Pyro, he felt the BLU mercenaries should be given the same respect.

But there was another reason Heavy wanted to go back to that place that he didn't tell Medic about. Both times he went there, Heavy felt like something else - besides the carnage - was wrong about the building that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It bothered him even more during the second visit, it was like an itch in an unreachable place that needed to be scratched. If he and Medic returned there, maybe he could figure out what was wrong. It infuriated him to no end.

The last thread of the plan left was how to handle the rest of the men. Medic had his own desires, " _He_ should not go unpunished for striking me!" he growled while clenching his fists. "If I had any sedatives I vould _tear_ zhat hand of his off his arm, or cut off his good one." Heavy wrapped an arm around his shoulder,

"No revenge, doctor. They don't need to know we will leave." Laughter came down from above,

"But it won't be long until we realize you've gone!" Heavy and Medic immediately recognized Spy's voice, but weren't sure of his location. Crouched down near the eavesdrop, Spy faded into view. He waved his special invisibility watch in front of his teammates, "This was at the bottom of a box if you can believe it," he explained with an air of pride. "Given up on us, have you?"

The other two came closer to Spy; if the Frenchman weren't on the roof, Heavy would have liked to take a swipe at him for nearly giving him a heart attack.

 _"Snake!"_ Heavy cursed at him. "Why are you on roof?" Spy gripped the eavesdrop and gracefully swung over onto the ground, making a perfect landing,

"I went up to get away from the others, of course. Then I heard you gentlemen speaking and I couldn't help but listen in." Spy noticed the men's glares and added teasingly, "The cloaking was just a joke," he changed his tone to be more serious, "So you really are leaving." Heavy and Medic nodded. Then Spy asked, "What if you're not the only ones who want to end this? After what happened to Pyro, I would expect the others might want to finally leave, don't you think?"

Medic shook his head and he answered solemnly, "You overestimate zhem. Ze men are too frightened of vhat lies out here - Engineer's hold is too strong."

"Perhaps," Spy agreed. "But don't forget that despite your findings, _something_ is out here." The other men were forced to admit Spy had a point. Still, Heavy brushed him off,

"Don't make me laugh!" He said confidently, "Animals or no, they are no match for Medic and me!" Spy folded his arms,

"I'd like to think the only things out there are wild animals, but who can say for certain that Pyro was attacked by one?" He warned the other two, "Don't ignore the possibilities: There could easily be more people out there, people who will kill on sight."

"What you think we should do?" Heavy questioned him.

"Just wait." Spy assured them, "Talk to at least a few of the others during the day. I think Scout and Sniper may still be sensible." Heavy and Medic stared down Spy,

"Fine," said Medic sharply. "But if nothing comes of it, ve aren't going to vait for you." The Frenchman only turned around and pulled himself back onto the roof. Heavy and Medic continued to stand around, still wondering if it was the best choice to go along with the sharp-dressed man's idea.

Heavy let out a frustrated huff. That sneaky little frog, thinking it's alright to just butt in and ask to get even more people involved! What really stung the Russian was that Spy was all too right. His gun, Sasha, could make mincemeat of many threats, but Heavy was not so full of himself that he wouldn't deny he had his own limitations. And he knew of Medic's limitations as well, and by the look on Medic's face the doctor knew it, too.

There could be something hidden in plain sight, something that could threaten two men on their own - a very small chance, surely, but a chance nonetheless. Heavy felt slightly ashamed for submitting to Spy so quickly, but whatever it took to get out of this Hell alive and sane, it would be worth it in the end.

* * *

Demoman woke up. His first thought was surprise at having been able to sleep at all, and he must have slept for at least a few minutes because Heavy and Medic were gone and Soldier was awake. If only he hadn't woken up so soon. Demoman's stomach grumbled and growled, and he wasn't sure if he was hungry or if he was about to boak again. He shifted his legs and looked over at Soldier. The man had put on his helmet and jacket; he was standing in front of the blasted hole.

Soldier stood upright in a stiff pose and Demoman thought he saw him swaying a bit. "What are ye doin'?" he asked Soldier quietly. The American turned his head towards Demoman,

"I'm going back down there," he stated.

"Fer what reason?"

"What else?" Soldier scoffed. "I need to retrieve the helmet and gun I left behind before they can fall into the wrong hands!" His voice was oddly tense. Demoman became wracked with panic; he laughed nervously,

"It isn't anythin' worth fussin' over!" When Soldier took one step forward, Demoman braced himself and pushed his body off of the couch. With one hand gripped firmly on the armrest, the Scotsman stood up to meet Soldier and said to him honestly, "I dun't think I trust ye ta go down those stairs." Soldier looked straight into his face and said back,

"You don't understand," Demoman heard his voice crack, "If I don't go back - I-I don't know what I'll do!" Soldier turned his back to him and stared deeply into the void, made all the more menacing from the lack of sunlight. While Demoman asked Soldier what the _bloody hell_ was he talking about, he wondered how he was able to sit on the couch so damn close to the hole for nearly a whole day now. Soldier's only response to him was a fearful "I can't ignore it anymore..."

Soldier ducked and started making his way through the hole, forcing Demoman to let go of the armrest and go after him. He reached his arm towards Soldier, calling out to him, but almost immediately Demoman's vision began to blur; a stabbing sensation right in between his eyes coupled with his legs quickly losing their strength overtook Demoman, and the next thing he knew he was falling. Just before impact, Demoman put his arms out, causing his right elbow to crash against the table right in the middle of the room. He ignored the pain, instead he thrashed his body around in an attempt to muster enough strength to stand back up.

Demoman looked at the still visible Soldier, who was just standing motionless on the steps; he hadn't gone that far down yet. Demoman became petrified as he watched Soldier clutch his helmet while he emitted a painful-sounding groan.

"Get out o' there, Soldier, do ye hear me?!" Demoman screamed at him. Soldier groaned again, louder than before. The Scotsman strained his muscles but was only able to sit on his knees, and he cried out, "Have ye lost yer mind, Doe? I ain't lettin' any more men go ta Hell while I'm still breathin'!" Soldier didn't groan again, now he was crouched over like he was trying to avoid an attacker.

At last, Heavy and Medic returned inside, any words they might have wanted to say were caught in their throats as they took in the scene. Just then, Engie and Sniper stumbled through the corridor, becoming instantly alert once they saw what was going on. Engie rushed over to help Demoman up to his feet. Heavy ran to the hole, and although there was no way he could squeeze through there quickly, he was at least able to reach his arm out towards Soldier.

As Heavy did this, the others looked on both confused and horrified. When Heavy clasped his fingers around Soldier's jacket, he growled at the man,

"I wish I knew what is your problem," and yanked him up the steps, banging Soldier against what remained of the wall.

"God damnit, Heavy!" Engineer exclaimed. "What are ya tryin' to do, kill him?" He leaped towards Heavy, and he and Sniper took over bringing Soldier through. This time, Soldier was even more dazed then before, his eyes even blanker. Demoman pat him on the shoulder and went to sit in a chair while Soldier was once again sat on the couch. Heavy responded to Engineer coldly,

"He was killing _himself._ " Sniper then shot back dismissively,

"Aw, shut ya gob! Ya don't know what he was doin'." Demoman held his breath, thinking there might be another stare-down; fortunately, common sense was victorious. Medic inspected Soldier for any wounds, snapping his fingers to see if he would respond. Minutes passed, Medic tried various ways of getting Soldier to focus, and eventually the other men joined in as well.

They threw out everything they could think of that might press his buttons. Heavy said to him,

"I think Communism really _is_ best idea!" in the most serious tone he could muster. Engie said half-heartedly,

"Boy, the VC's really kicking America's asses over there." The men simultaneously appealed to Soldier's patriotism and condemned it, except for Demoman, who sat on the sidelines observing Soldier. Time crawled slowly, the mercenaries' attempts to bring Soldier back to reality grew so desperately outlandish even Soldier himself would have to call them ridiculous.

Deep in his gut, Demoman knew his comrade wasn't going to snap out of his state tonight. Soldier's head was tilted upwards and he gazed at everything but the men. Demoman wondered if he was actually shellshocked; he turned an eye to the hole and the darkness within. If there was one thing he knew for certain, he wasn't going to lay anywhere _near_ the damn thing from now on.


End file.
